A waiter knocked and entered.  He handed a letter to Hume.

“From Nellie,” said David hastily.

He opened the envelope and perused a short note, which he gave to Brett.  It ran:—­

“DEAREST,—­I have just heard from Jane, our under-housemaid, that Mr. Capella is leaving the Hall for London by an early train to-morrow.  Jane ‘walks out’ with Mr. Capella’s valet, and is in tears.  Tell Mr. Brett.  I am going to help Mrs. Eastham to select prize books for the school treat to-morrow at eleven.

    “—­With love, yours,

    “NELLIE.”

“Who brought this note?” inquired Hume from the waiter as he picked up pen and paper.

“A man from Sleagill, sir.  Any reply?”

“Certainly.  Tell him to wait in the tap-room at my expense.”  He commenced to write.

“Any message?” he asked Brett.

“Yes.  Give Miss Layton my compliments, and say I regret to hear that Jane is in tears.  Ask her—­Miss Layton—­to get Jane to find out from the valet what train his master will travel by.”

“Why?”

“Because I will go by an earlier one, if possible.”

“But what about me!  Confound it, I promised—­”

“To meet Miss Layton at eleven.  Do so, my dear fellow.  But come to town to-morrow evening.  Winter and I may want you.”

So the detective sent another telegram to detain that dress suit, and Hume seemed to have quickly conquered his disinclination to visit Stowmarket.

CHAPTER X

THE BLACK MUSEUM

Winter, who had never seen Capella, was so well posted by Brett as to his personal appearance that he experienced no difficulty in picking out the Italian when he alighted from the train at Liverpool Street Station next morning.

Capella did not conduct himself like a furtive villain.  He jumped into a hansom.  His valet followed in a four-wheeler with the luggage.  In each instance the address given to the driver was that of a well-known West End hotel.

The detective’s cab kept pace with Capella’s through Old Broad Street, Queen Victoria Street, and along the Embankment.  At the Mansion House, and again at Blackfriars, they halted side by side, and Winter noticed that his quarry was looking into space with sullen, vindictive eyes.

“He means mischief to somebody,” was Winter’s summing up.  “I wonder if he intends to knife Hume?” for Brett had given his professional confrere a synopsis of all that happened before they met, and of his subsequent conversation with the “happy couple” in Beechcroft Hall.

He repeated this remark to the barrister when he reached Brett’s chambers.

“Capella will do nothing so crude,” was the comment.  “He is no fool.  I do not credit him with the murder of Sir Alan, but if I am mistaken in this respect, it is impossible to suppose that he can dream of clearing his path again by the same drastic method.  Of course he means mischief, but he will stab reputations, not individuals.”